


as long as we're going down

by candycolamorgan



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M, spies au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-20 12:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1509887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candycolamorgan/pseuds/candycolamorgan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are some situations for which even CIA training doesn’t cover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	as long as we're going down

Despite hours of continued failure, Caroline pulled at the chain that was attached to the metal handcuffs currently chafing her wrists, testing for any weaknesses as she turned over possible escape plans in her mind. This freaky underground dungeon had _not_ been on the building blueprints she’d pored over the other night, and she mentally berated herself for not delving further into this mansion’s more… _creative_ renovations over the years.

All she knew for certain was that she was _not_ going to die in some windowless little concrete room after merely being caught hacking into the mainframe on this otherwise cakewalk assignment. It was true that people in her line of business didn’t exactly have a long life expectancy, but she’d imagined her inevitable end to feature something with yachts and sapphire waters in the background. Perhaps a situation involving some foreign boy toy she’d picked up the day before who was already smitten enough to foolishly take a bullet for her as an old adversary, driven insane with how their life had crumbled to pieces after she had single-handedly dismantled their entire criminal empire, sought their revenge.

Basically, more _James Bond_ , and less of this gritty _Jason Bourne_ realism.

There was a sound of a door opening and shutting out of her line of vision and she looked up from her attempt to break the lock on the manacles.

She caught a slight whiff of that familiar cologne in the air— hints of pine and heated earthy undertones that brought to mind what she imagined an _epic_ midday tryst in the woods would smell like— and she grinned, recognizing it immediately.

 _Well, then_. Her job just got a whole heck of a lot easier.

She relaxed into the uncomfortable aluminum chair as she waited for the man behind those footsteps to appear, not bothering to hide her outright smile when he did.

“Klaus Mikaelson in the flesh,” she began in a throaty tone that hopefully disguised the extent of how exhausted she truly was. “It really _must_ be my lucky day.” She observed him closely as he dropped a stack of folders on the nearby table before turning to face her. His gaze held hers as he dragged a chair opposite her through the bars of the cell and her gut twisted anxiously.

“Hello, Caroline.”

She forcibly stopped herself from swallowing hard at the sound of that accent, determined not to reveal just how much it affected her. It was downright embarrassing for an agent of her caliber to be undone by such a simple thing. _No_ , she thought to herself, steeling her traitorous body. _That stupid accent was not going to win today_.

“You know, it’s funny,” she said with false brightness, “I specifically timed this little escapade for tonight because I could have _sworn_ you were in Prague right now.” It was true— she’d kept her ear to the ground for a whole two weeks (no small feat in the fast-paced underbelly of London) for any hint of chatter that helped her pin down when he’d next be out of town. All that time and effort she’d put into avoiding a face-to-face confrontation with him this time around— _wasted_.

His responding grin was a little too smug for her liking.

“ _I was_.”

She raised a questioning brow, and he happily continued. “When Elijah called me two hours ago to inform me about how a little blonde had bypassed the outer perimeter as well as our internal security system, I knew it was you.”

She threw her head back and laughed, pausing only to look back at him with a patronizing expression.

“So, what? You cut your ‘business’ trip short, hop on some private jet and cross the Atlantic straightaway just to see me?”

“Yes.”

His perfectly serious tone disquieted her, and she didn’t hold back from swallowing hard this time.

“I hope you weren’t expecting the same welcome as last time,” she chided mockingly. “As you can see, I’m hardly dressed for it.” He eyed her current outfit, noting how she looked just as tempting in her stealthy black leather as she did in that satiny number from the aforementioned _last time_.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Well, we have a lot to discuss, sweetheart.”

“Such as?”

He reached over to the stack of folders he’d brought in, tossing them down onto the ground before him one by one, the slap of thick paper on concrete punctuating his every word.

“Rome. Paris. Tokyo.” He narrowed his eyes at the satisfied smirk that was slowly taking over her face. “You’re becoming quite the fly in the ointment, love. I’d hate to think about the consequences if this troubling trend continues.”

Seeing her opening at his mention of all their past run-ins, she licked her lips slowly as if she were just unconsciously wetting them, watching the way his gaze immediately zeroed in on the move.

“Oh, is _that_ what this is about?” she asked, holding up her bound wrists. “A little payback for Paris?” She considered the cuffs contemplatively and looked back at him, flashing a wicked smile. “I suppose it’s _my_ turn?”

Klaus’ mouth parted slightly, and she saw a flash of unchecked longing before he looked away abruptly and cleared his throat. He turned back to her with a slight frown.

“Caroline—”

“Remember that gorgeous four-poster bed at Le Royale?” she interjected, interrupting him quickly before her window of opportunity closed. He inhaled sharply, no doubt visualizing in painstaking detail what she could only describe as _That Weekend_ in her mind.

She chuckled as if remembering something.

“Well, I guess _three_ -poster would be more accurate after we were done with it.”

Klaus tried to keep his expression as neutral and unaffected as possible at that little reminder, using all his willpower to refrain from falling neatly into the distraction she presented. Although his gut clenched at just the mere memory of that particularly… _vigorous_ encounter, he was determined to get through this without a repeat of his past mistakes. Namely, caving in to her will like a soggy card castle.

She wanted to play dirty? _Fine._

He slouched back into his chair, reaching for the last remaining folder on the table and flipping through it absently.

“How long are you planning to keep up this honey trap charade, love?”

“However long you’re dumb enough to fall for it, obviously.”

His eyes rolled as he sighed dramatically, looking heavenward.

“Is that all they teach you back home at The Farm? I must admit, I thought your people could prevail themselves upon the taxpayers for at least a _few_ more courses in spy craft other than one-note seduction.”

Caroline stood up abruptly, the length of chain anchoring her to the floor just long enough to allow her to lean forward and snarl at him through the bars.

“It worked well enough on you,” she shot back snidely, lips curling in contempt. “And for the record, I learned how to smile at someone’s face while stabbing them in the back _long_ before I was recruited to the agency.”

She saw his lips part slightly in surprise at her vehement response, and she realized she’d caught him off guard. It was one thing to question her technique on a particular strategy, but her _overall capability_? The bastard deserved more than just a jab of words, but until she got back the hunting knife one of the men had confiscated earlier, it was the best she could manage at the moment.

He went back to perusing the pages in his hands and something interesting must have caught his eye because his face suddenly broke out into the biggest smile.

“Yes, I suppose you did,” he said with such a shit-eating grin that Caroline eyed him warily, immediately suspicious of anything that would cause such a reaction. “Now, would that be while you were getting a degree in Drama at Juilliard or during your reign as Miss Mystic Falls?”

The violent rattling of the chain as she lunged forward made him flinch back reflexively, even though a wall of iron bars and at least three feet stood between them. He laughed at the murderous glare she was giving him.

“ _Where did you get that_?” she hissed, only making his grin widen until he looked like a giddy little schoolboy as he clutched the dossier to his chest protectively.

“You should probably have a chat with your IT department if you get back home to your precious CIA,” he said around the few chuckles that were still making their way up his throat. “Tragic stereotypes in action, I’m afraid—lonely tech meets pretty girl. I’m sure you’re familiar with the play,” he added with a knowing smirk.

Far from looking even the slightest bit perturbed, annoyed, or concerned, Caroline suddenly became unnaturally still, eyes focused on him with a piercing focus.

“If?” she asked with a forced calmness even as her heart raced with the first strains of real fear in the past hours she’d been locked up. She may have been lauded as the brightest rising star within the agency in years, but she wasn’t so foolishly arrogant as to think that whatever had happened between her and Klaus before would matter when it came down to the line and they were on different sides.

His smile faded away as he took in the look on her face, tossing aside the file carelessly and moving to approach her.

“Caroline, I only meant—”

“Are you going to kill me?” she asked plainly, her forthright manner masking the nervous rabbit’s beat of her heart. His brows furrowed into a frown as he came to stand directly in front of her, close enough that the light puffs of her breath hit the lower edge of his jaw.

“You really think that low of me?” he whispered hoarsely, something frighteningly similar to devastation making its way through his chest at the thought that she would even entertain the notion of him harming her _._

“ _Yes._ ”

Klaus’ frown deepened at that, and Caroline visibly stiffened when he then reached through the bars for her bound wrists while fishing for something in his pocket. His hand resurfaced with a cluttered key ring, and she watched with equal parts wariness and surprise when he slid the key into the lock and released the restraints.

He didn’t let go of her even as the cuffs fell to the floor, and she felt her heart start to race for reasons that had nothing to do with fear, and everything to do with the rough texture of his palms slowly caressing her forearms.

Flashes of unbidden memories clouded her mind just as she tried so desperately to clear it, thoughts of silk sheets and the feeling of his stubble brushing up against the most sensitive parts of her… She shook her head, willing the images away.

“What do you want, Klaus?” she said wearily, and the answer bloomed instantly on his lips: _You._ Before he had the chance to actually vocalize it though, she continued. “If you’re gonna kill me, I wish you’d do it sooner rather than later.”

“I’m not going to kill you, love,” he said, making no effort to hide the distaste in his voice. She raised her eyebrow skeptically.

“Really? Then why am I still here if not to fulfill some little revenge fantasy of yours?”

Caroline felt his hands fall away abruptly, and she hated the little part of her that mourned the comforting contact. For his part, he couldn’t prevent the displeased scowl at the way she was deliberately throwing a sordid light onto the whole situation. She knew full well it was her doing that had landed her in this little ‘guest room’ (as Kol liked to refer to it) with her little stunt earlier. He swore he would have gone about all this the proper way if he’d gotten half the chance before she’d so conveniently fallen into his lap tonight.

“Maybe you don’t realize this,” he began through gritted teeth, “but Elijah and the men were perfectly willing to toss you into the Thames earlier. The only thing standing between your sweet little arse and a cement overcoat is _me_.”

She rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed with that as a measure of his regard, and yet he noticed how her shoulders relaxed the slightest bit.

“The truth is, I wanted to speak with you about something.”

A harsh laugh escaped her lips.

“If this is about that Monet, you can forget it. I won it fair and square and there’s nothing you—”

“As much as I’d enjoy hearing you try and tell me there’s nothing I can do about it,” he interjected, “this isn’t about that.”

She eyed him expectantly, her interest piqued despite her caution. Klaus _always_ wanted to talk about that Monet.

“I have a proposition for you, sweetheart, and I want you to give it some proper thought before you answer.” She gave him a disbelieving look.

“ _Seriously?_ Do you honestly expect me to make any kind of life-changing decision while I’m stuck in your personal little prison?” she said, gesturing around her current accommodations. The corner of his mouth lifted into a lopsided grin.

“ _Life-changing_? Careful, love, you keep up the flattering implications and I might just think it intentional at some point.” Some wild, uncontrollable heat spread within his chest when he saw a slight flush creep up her neck, and he imagined tracing the path of it all across her body with his hands, his mouth... His mind wandered for a moment with those thoughts, but after a minute when no snappy retort seemed forthcoming from her, he went on.

“I won’t deny it _is_ rather convenient having you cooped up here,” he admitted shamelessly. “You’re a hard woman to pin down, Agent Forbes.” This last finally brought back a hint of the feral smile from earlier that he loved so much—all teeth and red painted lips.

“ _And don’t you forget it._ ”

The challenging glint in her eyes, coupled with the way she surreptitiously glanced down at his lips finally sent him over the edge, and before he could stop himself, he was reaching past the bars to grab her face in his hands. Months apart hadn’t dulled the memory of her lips against his in the least, but it was nothing compared to the sight of them parting so sweetly now, a hairsbreadth away and waiting for him to close the last infinitesimal distance between them.

So he did.

There was a voice in the back of Caroline’s head that screamed for her to take immediate advantage of his vulnerable position, but when she let her hands run unchecked all over his back and chest it was for no other reason than to pull him deeper into the kiss. She pulled down on his shirt, bringing him as close as she possibly could through the iron bars separating them.

The uncomfortable barrier somehow only served to inflame her mounting desire as she let out a low moan, and she could only chalk it up to her unfortunate tendency to want the unattainable. And Klaus Mikaelson— the most elusive, mercenary, and notorious agent provocateur, not to mention first class pain in her ass— was the very _definition_.

He caught her lower lip between his teeth and pulled gently, grinning when he heard her sharp intake of breath. Her hands moved up his neck to bury themselves in the short curls, tilting his head for a better angle to retaliate in kind until he was left gasping into her mouth.

Klaus eventually pulled back after a while, struggling to catch his breath.

“Stay with me,” he said suddenly, cradling her face in his hands as she blinked up at him, too stunned to say anything. “Don’t leave this time.”

Caroline wished in that moment that she wasn’t so adept in lie detection, the genuine sincerity of his words making it difficult to remember why nothing could ever really happen between them. Conversely, the reason she was here in the first place became painfully clear. She swallowed nervously, sifting quickly through what she wanted to say and what she should say.

“You know I can’t,” she said softly, dissatisfied that it was the only truth she could be honest about.

“You _can_ ,” he countered, gently stroking the edge of her cheekbone with his thumb. “Come work with us.” She leaned back, her forehead crinkling with concentration.

“What?”

“ _My proposition_ ,” he said meaningfully, and she waited for him to explain. “Leave the agency and join us instead.” Caroline stared at him silently, and he rushed to continue, filling the silence with what he hoped were enticing incentives.

“You’d get to choose your own assignments, for one thing,” he began. “No bureaucratic bullshit and red tape to deal with, no restrictive protocols, not to mention a _significant_ pay raise, I imagine.”

Seeing that she still looked unconvinced, Klaus drew his last and final card.

“You wouldn’t have to feel guilty anymore.”

“ _Guilty?_ ” she repeated skeptically, her patronizing smile growing to match his own. “ _I_ haven’t done anything wrong. Guilty about what?”

“Us,” he answered simply. “This thing we have that you’ve been desperately trying to cover up with hostility and through the pretense of your job.”

The smile on her face froze, and she schooled it into one of neutral indifference— or as much as she could manage, at least.

“We don’t have a _thing_.”

“I beg to differ,” he countered smugly, and Caroline wondered how his stubbornness in believing that what they had was real could both irritate and endear him to her in equal measure.

“Even if we did,” she conceded slightly, her voice rising as she went on, “it wouldn’t change anything, Klaus. You can’t just ask me to run off and abandon everything; my work, my home— the people depending on me.”

If he didn’t exactly appear to be moved by her allusion to working for the greater good, he did ultimately realize what he was asking of her wasn’t quite fair. He let out a deep breath.

“Alright then, sweetheart, I’ll make you a little trade. I’ll give you whatever you came here for, in exchange for one thing.” She narrowed her eyes as she pursed her lips at him, trying and failing to fully bite back the victorious grin that threatened to break through.

“And what is that?”

“I just want…” his voice trailed off for a second as his face suddenly changed, the ever-present veneer of control and confidence fading into a rare glimpse of raw vulnerability that went right through her. “I _need_ you to be honest with me.”

Klaus could tell the moment she understood what he meant, her breath catching as her gaze flitted everywhere but at him. He saw the wheels turning in her head, weighing the consequences as she shifted nervously from one foot to the other.

She finally met his gaze after a minute, coming to a decision.

“I need the bank routing number they used to pay you in that Petrova deal last month.” He considered her carefully, knowing she wouldn’t ask if she wasn’t agreeing to the terms he’d set.

“418230115,” he replied, never taking his gaze off hers as he waited in turn for her response. The silence that began to stretch between them was a painful lesson in physical agony on par with any of the vicious brawls he’d ever been in as she pinned him with that inscrutable look.

Caroline warred with herself, so tempted to tell him about how much she’d caught herself thinking about him, how despite all the awful things he’d done, she couldn’t shake this connection or pretend any longer that it was less than what it was. Unable to come up with anything that could properly convey this, she settled for the next best thing.

Inhaling deeply, she braced herself as she leaned forward, stretching up on the toe of her boots to press her lips against his in a fierce kiss that spoke volumes more than she could ever say with mere words.

She pressed harder when she noticed he was standing unnaturally still, intent on showing him in this small way at least how she really felt. When it became clear that he wasn’t going to further or deepen it into anything more, she pulled away, searching his face for any sign of his reaction. The dazed expression he was currently sporting was enough to reassure her, but it was when his eyes flickered open to stare at her with a completely mesmerized expression that she felt her stomach flip and heart pound. 

“How am I supposed to let you go now?” he asked raggedly against her lips, unable to even imagine watching her walk out without a backwards glance after this. A giggle bubbled up past her throat and she pecked him on the lips affectionately, giving him a devious grin.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it easy for you.”

Before he could ask her what she meant by that, the hands that had come to rest against his chest curled around the lapels of his coat and yanked him forward until his forehead collided with the heavy cell bars.

***

It was several hours later when Klaus came to at the piercing screech of an airhorn, jerking up through layers of unconsciousness and pain to see both of his brothers standing over him. Elijah’s arms were crossed as he looked down at him with a mixture of disappointment and pity, while Kol appeared positively gleeful, thumb hovering over the button of said airhorn.

“Have a nice nap, darling? Or should I—?” Klaus pointed up at his younger brother meaningfully, voice gravelly with disuse and deadly serious.

“You press that damned thing again, Kol, and _I’ll_ —”

Ever the peacemaker, Elijah interrupted the imminent threat before Klaus had the chance to make good on it. With Kol’s talent for provocation, he’d estimated that point to be in the next twenty seconds.

“What happened, Niklaus?”

Klaus didn’t meet his eyes, instead busying himself with getting to his feet and brushing the dust off his clothes as he grinned in a way Elijah could only describe as… _wistful_. He looked at Klaus appraisingly, suspecting he must be suffering a mild concussion at the very least.

“She got the jump on me, what can I say?” he said simply, seemingly unconcerned with explaining further.

Kol howled with laughter, hopping up to sit on the table as if settling in for a particularly entertaining scene.

“Doesn’t look like you made it all that hard, eh, Nik?” Klaus glared at him, the muscle in his jaw twitching at the strangely knowing look Kol was giving him. Elijah gestured for him to be quiet, bringing them back to the matter at hand.

“You said you would handle this, brother. That you could handle _her_. What happened to bringing her into the fold? Your big plans for recruiting her? All the—and I quote—‘ _untapped potential_?’”

“ _Recruiting_ her?” Kol asked with renewed interest, reaching for the dossier on the table as the other two continued to ignore him. “Who’d you say this woman is, again?”

“I made a slight miscalculation, Elijah. It won’t happen again.”

“Just as it didn’t all the other times?” the elder Mikaelson pointed out sarcastically, and Klaus let out a frustrated sigh, unable to completely deny the wealth of overwhelming evidence.

“This time was different,” Klaus insisted. “It’s not about—” He was suddenly interrupted by Kol letting out a low whistle, unable to ignore the openly lascivious look on his brother’s face as he scanned the file on Caroline he’d left on the table.

“ _Ah_ , I remember her from Tokyo,” he said appreciatively as his eyes glossed over some candid shots of Caroline getting into her car back home in D.C. “She looks like a _tasty_ little—”

Klaus ripped the folder out of his hands, letting out an ill-tempered growl.

“Say another word, and _I’ll tear out your liver_.” Elijah let out a long-suffering sigh as Kol laughed right in Klaus’ face.

“You know, these threats might carry a tad more weight were you not wearing that particularly fetching shade of lipstick, darling.”

Klaus’ brows furrowed in confusion for a moment before he saw Elijah roll his eyes and, with a great show of offended dignity, toss him the handkerchief from his breast pocket.

Suddenly realizing the proof of exactly how he’d ‘handled’ the situation with Caroline was quite literally all over his face, he quickly reached up to try and wipe away the incriminating traces of where her traitorous lips had been.

Kol rushed towards the door, laughing as he threatened to call Rebekah and tell her all about how their self-aggrandizing brother had been incapacitated by a common government-trained agent not two years off the farm. Klaus chased after him, cursing the little blonde that had caused him all this trouble and more.

She was upending every facet of his life lately, and it was about time he reciprocated.

He wondered idly what the weather was like in D.C. this time of year.


End file.
